Unexpected
by Nova-Janna
Summary: Allison and Bender in the weeks following detention. This is a oneshot into their lives, and it is not only a friendship fic. It is in response to a challenge set for an AllisonBender fic on the forums. Enjoy.


**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine in any way, shape or form. (Pity.)**

**A/N: Written for ****whenyougrowupyourheartdies****' challenge on the fanfiction forum threads. **

**There are only a few rules with this challenge and they are:**

Must be about BENDER and ALLISON (that is obvious)  
Must have one of the two characters playing hard to get  
Must make mention of the line " When you grow up, your heart dies."  
HAVE FUN!

**Not really sure whether I appropriately included the "playing hard to get" bit, but you can decide for yourselves.**

"Hey," John said, trying to catch up to Allison in the hallway. Allison ignored him and kept walking; John's tone changed significantly. "Hey, Klepto! I'm talking to you!" He darted around a pair of jocks walking in front of him, jogging a little to try and keep up with her. He didn't catch up until they were both outside.

"Hey!" He said again, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. "What, you gonna say you couldn't hear me?"

Allison shook her head, looking down mutely. She had the hood of her black sweater pulled up and shielding her face. "What do you want?" She mumbled, finally looking up at him.

John was taken aback for about two seconds before answering. "I just wanted to invite you to one of my heavy metal parties," he replied, as self-assured as he always was. Clearly, they were both going to ignore the makeup running down her face and how red her eyes looked. And Allison didn't mind at all.

"No," she replied stiffly, swinging her back around and turning to walk away.

"Why not?" John demanded, reaching for her again.

"I don't want to."

"Why not?" John repeated, and she stopped and turned to face him, looking defiant.

"Why should I?" Allison threw back, and John scowled.

"It's just an invitation," he defended.

"What would Claire say?" Allison demanded after a few seconds of studying him.

"Full of questions, aren't you?" John asked gruffly, then shook his head. "Fuck, I don't give a shit what she'd say."

Allison made a small noise of disbelief.

"Don't believe me? Why should I care what the princess thinks? She doesn't care what I think, so why shouldn't I do her the courtesy of returning the favour?" John was standing a few feet away from Allison, looking angry. "I don't know why the fuck I thought I'd ask you that anyways."

"I don't know why either," Allison replied softly. "She messed up, didn't she?"

John paused for a second, as if he was considering whether or not to actually answer her. "Depends on what you mean by 'messed up'," he commented casually, though Allison knew he was anything but.

"You're so full of shit!" Allison snapped, and people stopped for a brief moment to stare at them. "You didn't even care about her, you just wanted someone."

"Don't fucking come then, Klepto. But here's the thing: I know Sporto doesn't talk to you anymore, and that the Brainiac is fucking scared of you. God knows Claire won't talk to you – Claire barely talks to Andy – and you and I, well, we're more alike than either of us would like to think." He finished yelling at her, breathing heavily, and stared at her for a few seconds. Allison met his gaze defiantly, not saying a word.

"Damn it," he said, shaking his head fiercely, before spinning on his heel and walking away.

Allison stared after him for all of two seconds before walking away.

They didn't say anything to each other for another week; presumably, Allison thought, John went to his heavy metal party alone and got completely drunk. He was right about the others, and she knew it. Andy ignored her completely, Brian said hurried little hellos but kept himself busy, and Claire didn't even acknowledge her existence long enough to ignore her; she looked right through Allison. Allison sat alone at lunch, on a lone picnic table out by the bleachers, only remembering to eat sometimes. John sat with some stoners against the back of the gym, almost always smoking. Allison went to talk to him one day when he was alone, just leaning there, smoking and blowing it out into the crisp air.

"John," she said, gaining his attention. "Sorry."

He smirked at her; offered the joint. "Peace?"

Allison wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Peace," she agreed, as he brought the joint back up to his mouth.

"She's a bitch, you know," Allison commented after a few silent minutes of watching John smoke. Not once did his self-assured smirk leave his face. "I don't think anything will change that."

"That's very pessimistic of you, Allison," John said, turning to look at her. "So, the sweet kisses she gave me, that lovely makeover of yours, this-" he tapped the diamond earring stud "-it's all just bullshit?"

"You would know about bullshit better than me," Allison pointed out boldly, and John let out a sharp laugh.

"I would have said the same to you," John said, and Allison gave him a small smile.

"It's not bullshit. It's just…she doesn't know what she wants, and she has her priorities mixed up."

"So her heart is going to die, is it?" John questioned, looking at her intently.

Allison nodded. "Sooner rather than later."

"You really are quite a pessimist."

"You really are quite a jackass," Allison shot back, and he grinned at her. It was a silly comment, seeing as how she usually only opened her mouth when she felt she had something important to say. He knew it, too.

That time, when he offered her the joint, she accepted. And then tossed it to the ground and plowed it into the ground with her heel.

That Friday, John caught her at the end of the school day again. "Hey, Allison," he said, and she stopped to look at him. They'd spoken only briefly in the past couple of days, hurriedly in the hallways, not saying much of anything. She knew this was going to be more important.

He grinned at her, genuinely, and Allison felt herself grinning back. When he smiled like that, with no trace of arrogance – or, at least, a lot less than normal – it was infectious. "Wanna come to a heavy metal party with me?"

"Are you asking me out?" She shot back promptly, having anticipated the question.

"Sure, if you want," he replied with a casual shrug, and Allison rolled her eyes at him. "The way I see it, Klepto, is if I take you out on a couple dates, at the very least you won't expect much from it." He leaned in close and gave her a quick tap on the nose. "Eternal pessimists never expect much of anything."

Allison grinned and agreed to go.

Later that night, Allison followed John timidly into a large house with music pounding out of it. She stepped gingerly over the couple on the front steps, who looked as if they were going to round home right there in plain view. John shot her a grin and a wink as he held open the door for her.

"We're not all crazy sex fiends, never fear," he whispered in her ear as they entered the front hallway.

"I don't go to a lot of parties," Allison admitted, and John rolled his eyes.

"Really?" He asked, his voice full of mock disbelief. "I never would have guessed."

Allison swung her bag around and hit him in the back of the thighs. "Ow!" John exclaimed, scowling back at her. "Violence is not the answer, you know."

Allison snorted. "Coming from you?"

He smirked at her and grabbed her hand, pulling her through rooms teeming with people until they reached a back deck. "Sit down," he said, pointing at a ratty couch. She stood still defiantly until he realized, at which point he rolled his eyes. "Please?"

Allison nodded and sat down on the couch. She reached into her bag and pulled out her sketch pad, surveying the backyard and the shadowy figures abounding in it. There was definitely potential in those shadowy figures, and even in the people here, milling about on the porch. Punks, mostly, and Allison couldn't stop looking at their hair. She couldn't have cared less about hers, which she'd thought was relatively logical – it was just dead skin cells, after all – but then she'd met Claire, who saw it as another accessory; a way of enhancing her beauty. These people saw it as another accessory, only not to enhance their beauty, but to make a statement. Allison grinned. She liked these people already.

John watched her sketching from his spot near a large cooler. He pulled out a can of beer and a can of Coke – he was fairly certain that, if drugs weren't her thing, neither was alcohol – and looked around for anyone else he knew.

"Hey, hey, look who we have here!" Exclaimed a loud voice behind him, and John spun to face one of his friends.

"Hey Chris," John said. "How are you?"

"Not as good as you, probably," Chris grinned. "Saw you with that redhead a couple weeks ago."

"Nah, it was nothing," John grinning, giving one of his shrugs. He glanced over at Allison.

"And then…You bring _her_ in," Chris added, following John's gaze. "You have strange tastes, man. First a princess, and now…" He gestured lazily in Allison's direction. "What is she, exactly? An artist? A head case?"

"Hard to tell," John replied. "You'd like her, though."

Chris snorted. "I like any girls, nowadays, John. Can't get a whole hell of a lot."

"Maybe if you stopped getting drunk and high all the time," John suggested with a smirk.

"So I take it she's not someone I should try to use my charms on?" Chris looked at Allison, then at John.

"What charms?" John snorted.

"Ha, ha," Chris replied. "But seriously, man – avoiding the subject? So I should definitely stay away?"

"Yeah," John said after a few moments of looking at Allison. "Stay away. Not that you could win with her anyways."

"Seriously, let a man have some hope!" Chris exclaimed, grinning.

"Not with her," John replied, and Chris nodded.

"I get it, man." He stared at Allison for a beat. "Well, I don't really. I get what you're saying, but I don't get why."

"You don't really have to," John responded. He chucked the Coke can, suddenly cold in his hand, in Allison's direction. Not looking up from her sketchpad, Allison reached up and caught it.

"Freaky, man," Chris said. "Seriously freaky."

John grinned and left to join Allison on the couch. "Happy?" He asked her, gazing at the picture she was sketching.

She sighed and blew her hair out her eyes. "You moved. I was sketching you."

"Should I go back and pose?"

"No," Allison replied indignantly. "Thanks for the Coke."

"No problem." They sat in contented silence for almost two hours, with John occasionally speaking to friends who passed by and Allison sketching practically everything in her sight. It was the most comfortable John had ever been in almost complete silence, noting what a way with words he had.

"My ears are ringing," Allison yelled at him finally, closing her book and slipping it into her bag.

"Leave?" John asked, and then finished off the last of his beer as he waited for her to say yes.

Allison nodded. "Okay then. Let's go." He stood up and she followed as he led the way back out of the house and into the street. There was slush on the sidewalks, almost-ankle deep after the warmer weather and rains they'd been having lately. They walked down the middle of the streets in almost complete darkness, and John watched Allison's face every time they passed under a street light to try and see her expression.

"That wasn't so bad," Allison said, breaking a long silence.

"I'm glad," John grinned. "Means I can take you to more."

"Asking me out again already? First date's not even finished yet."

"I always have been a step ahead of the rest," he commented blithely.

Allison rolled her eyes. "Why are you walking me home?"

"Who said I was? Maybe I'm just going for a little stroll in the same direction as you."

"Why are you walking me home?" Allison repeated, after a brief moment's consideration.

"Gentlemanly thing to do," John replied in a subdued tone, missing her reaction as they passed under a flickering light.

"I wish people didn't mess up," Allison said, as if the words took great effort.

"But if people didn't mess up, you wouldn't be here with me," John pointed out, his tone a mixture of bitterness and humour.

"Yeah," Allison agreed. "But sometimes good things come of people making mistakes. A lot of the time…"

"It's just bad," John finished for her, wholeheartedly agreeing. "I think I knew Claire was going to screw up."

"We all knew they were going to screw up," Allison replied softly. "This is my house," she said, pointing at a pale purple house with green shutters.

"It's hideous," John laughed, then looked down at her as if he realized that his comment might have been offensive.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, just like she had when he offered her the joint earlier that week. "I know."

He took a step closer to her; grabbed her elbow. "Allison," he said softly, and then grinned at her. "This is the part where I give you a goodnight kiss, right?"

"I wasn't expecting much," Allison replied, smiling at him.

"Pessimist," he smiled, shaking his head.

"So what if I am?" She asked in a defiant tone. "Besides, it means I'm always pleasantly surprised when something good does happen."

He kissed her, softly, chastely – in every way that she had not been expecting from John Bender. His hand didn't move from her elbow, but the other arm reached up to her waist as he pulled her closer. "Surprised?" He asked, pulling away.

Allison shook her head. "No. I knew you were going to do that."

"So you're a hopeless romantic and a pessimist? How's that working out for you?"

"I am not a hopeless romantic. I just knew you were going to do that." She started up the steps to her house. "You're easier to read than you think."

"So are you," he called as she closed the door. He waited for a couple minutes until a light went on in one of the windows on the second floor.

Allison peered out the window, and then opened it when she saw him still standing there. "I knew you would check to make sure I was still here," John said, in a taunting tone.

Allison shrugged, copying one of his favourite motions in an effortlessly casual way. "Come by tomorrow."

He raised his eyebrows at her. He knew she probably couldn't see the movement in the darkness, but he also knew that she'd be aware that was what he was doing.

"Please?" She asked, and he grinned.

"See you tomorrow, Klepto."

**A/N: Eep. So yes, that was long. And I have no idea where it came from, seeing as how I haven't written any TBC fanfiction in God knows how long. So there you have it. My attempt to get into it. If they're out of character or if I made any mistakes, please tell me. Reviews are also greatly appreciated.**


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